


Sacrament

by Aloysia_Virgata



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:39:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloysia_Virgata/pseuds/Aloysia_Virgata
Summary: In response to:  I do like the Henry stories but could you please write a little something about Mulder and Scully being together post season 10 (I just have to believe they made it work





	Sacrament

Morning, then night. She drives and drives through threadbare towns and wastelands, the shells of cities. She drives by sunlight, moonlight, neon light. The dog sits in the passenger seat, stoic and staring.

Mulder, half dead or half living, stirs in the back. She’s out of time and there’s no trace of her son still, not a file or chromosome to be had. It’s up to her, then.

A hospital outside Biloxi, abandoned but for glossy raccoons and half feral dogs looting the cafeteria. Scully frees a frightened skunk with a yogurt cup on its snout, feeds her dog bread and cheese. She scrounges a wheelchair from the lobby.

Scully transfuses her blood into his limp form, a terrifying communion that represents her last best hope. She touches the scar at the back of her neck as her strange blood meets his, nourishing him as it did William. She wonders what her body will turn Mulder into, if it doesn’t kill him first.

He doesn’t wake and she wails, she rends her garments and falls to her knees again. She gives him saline and a hundred Hail Marys.

He doesn’t wake and she begs. _Eli, Eli, lama sabachtani?_

Morning, then night.

Movement beside her in the hospital bed, already sour with mice. Scully startles to alertness.

“Mulder?” Her voice is stone on stone.

He gazes at her, red-eyed, the skin beneath them the color of plums. “It’s you,” he croaks.

“It’s me,” she breathes, joyous and fearful.

“It’s always you.” He manages a smile on his cracked lips.

Scully touches his cheek with something akin to reverence. “Always,” she says, and sees through the window that the night has gone.


End file.
